


Episode 1: The Android

by Ablazen



Series: USS Set'ko [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Android Character, Danger-magnet protagonists, F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Not-So-Straight Characters, Straight Characters, Vulcan Crew AU, Vulcan characters, all OCs - Freeform, slow burn relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-09 22:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20517380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ablazen/pseuds/Ablazen
Summary: The Set'ko returns to Vulcan from its six month trial run to discuss the future of the starship, but a little experimentation in Human emotions gone wrong could mean the dismissal of the entire crew.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay, so this was only supposed to be a 5K one-shot fic but now it's too long (surprise, surprise) so I'm going to make it into a multi-chapter thing. Yay for pre-planning! This will be the first "episode" in what I'm hoping to make into a series (if anyone wants to read more, that is). This is also my first fanfic on this website so please be gentle!
> 
> Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own any of Star Trek (if I did, this fic would probably be a lot better).

_Chief Communications Officer’s log, Stardate 87580.3. This is Marco Famosa Armenteros of the USS Set’ko reporting. The ship’s making a quick stop at Vulcan to restock on supplies and Captain Skath has asked me to beam down with the landing crew. She says my input has been requested on “a matter involving Human emotions” and I have no idea what that means but I’m really excited!_

  
Marco is, unsurprisingly, not the first member of the landing party to arrive in the transporter room. Two of his three guards are already here; Saulark standing resolutely still on the steps up to the transporter platform and Faavus chatting amicably with the transporter operator of the day… T’Pel? T’Pern? He can’t quite remember her name, he’s only met her once or twice, but he _does_ remember that she loves this weird fruity syrup on her crepes when he bakes them for the crew.

  
He’s admittedly a little worried that Kunyck isn’t joining them for the beam down, because that means he’s going to have to play mediator for Saulark and Faavus and he’s not stupid enough to believe he’s at her level in that department. But regardless, he’s excited for the mission and he’s happy to be spending it with two of his closest friends, even if their frequent arguing can be off-putting at times.

  
“You are two minutes in advance.” Faavus and Saulark instantly hone in on Marco, but it’s no surprise that Faavus is the first to talk, even as they remain draped over the transport controls. “If I were Human, I would be impressed by your unexpected punctuality.”

  
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Marco declares, stretching his cheery grin wider so as to let Faavus know that he’s completely unbothered.

  
Faavus treads the line between Vulcan logic and Human mischief with expert precision: perfectly unwrinkled navy Set’ko uniform, complete with their blue Science Department fabric belt, brown hair carefully styled in a barely-regulation pixie cut, the ends of several strands dangling over unreadable dark blue eyes and pale snow white skin. They may be on the shorter end of the height spectrum, shorter than Kunyck and Saulark (but taller than Marco because the world is unfair), but their stature is deceiving. If Marco hadn’t sparred with them on multiple occasions, he might not have believed it, but Faavus is deceptively strong. Marco theorizes that it’s a mix of Faavus’ stubborn attitude, keen mind and surprising strength that convinced Captain Skath to make them one of Marco’ guards in the first place.

  
It’s due in part to their deeply intellectual nature and in part to their Vulcan heritage that Faavus’ facial expression doesn’t change, as it almost never does. But Marco, who’s known them as a close friend for over two years now, is acutely aware of the slightest of upward tilts at the corner of their mouth and the amused sparkle in their eyes. They always did like a challenge.

  
“As you should, of course.”

  
“_Lieutenant Faavus_,” Saulark cuts in sharply before Marco can reply. The transporter operative flinches at the harshness of his tone and the only reason Marco doesn’t follow her example is that he’s so used to it. Saulark and Faavus are at each other’s throats more often than not. “Leave Marco alone.”

  
Faavus might not be outwardly smirking, but one of their arched-up eyebrows is raised and there’s definitely something mischievous dancing in their bright blue eyes, and that’s practically the Vulcan equivalent of a smirk.

“Is that irritation I hear, Saulark?” They taunt, barely keeping the mirth out of their voice.

  
To say Saulark and Faavus are opposites wouldn’t be an overstatement. Though both relied heavily on Vulcan teachings and the desire not to display emotion, they could not be more different in personality. While Faavus calculated their every move, gesture and word, Saulark was blunt and honest to a fault. While Faavus was prone to teasing and taunting, Saulark disliked anything that vaguely resembled an insult, even if it wasn’t meant as such. While Faavus enjoyed dragging Marco into danger, Saulark made it his duty to drag him (and consequentially Faavus and Kunyck) out of it. If Faavus treaded the line between Vulcan logic and Human recklessness, Saulark stood firmly on one side. With his crisp uniform, crimson engineer's belt, dark brown skin, light hazel, almost golden eyes displaying all the emotion he wouldn’t allow himself to show otherwise, he was perfectly and completely Vulcan, no question.

  
He was also very easy to provoke, which amused Faavus to no end, much to Marco’s dismay.

  
Saulark’s piercing eyes narrow infinitesimally, just enough that Marco catches the shift. Saulark has always been easier to read than Faavus, whether that’s because his intentions are more straightforward or because Marco knows him better is unclear.

  
“If I were ever to feel emotions within your vicinity, irritation would certainly be the most likely candidate.”

  
On one hand, Marco could just let Saulark chew Faavus out like he always does until Faavus gets bored and redirects their attention elsewhere. On the other hand, he knows that if he doesn’t interfere, Saulark might just nerve pinch Faavus and he does not want to be the one to explain that to the Captain. Again.

  
“Ooooookay!” Marco drawls out, physically jumping between the two Vulcans. He, not for the first time, regrets being shorter than both of them. “So nice weather we’re having on Vulcan today, right?”

  
Saulark immediately casts his eyes onto Marco, a singular, judging eyebrow raised, and Marco can practically sense Faavus gathering up the self-restraint not to laugh.

  
“It is currently forty-seven point nine degrees Celsius on Vulcan, which is an exceedingly uncomfortable temperature for Humans.” Saulark states, carefully folding his hands behind his back. “I believe your analysis requires some reassessment, Lieutenant.”

  
Oh yikes, he’s using Marco’ rank instead of his name. He is pissed. Marco gives him what he hopes to be a charming grin.

  
“Depends on the Human.” He counters, not unkindly. “I, for one, love warm temperatures.”

  
“And yet you keep your room at an average of twenty point one degrees lower than the rest of the ship.”

  
Marco is more frustrated with himself for not realizing that of course Saulark, who spends the majority of his time with Marco, would’ve noticed that. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy warm temperatures, it’s just that Vulcans and Humans are not built the same and yeah, okay, forty-degree temperatures make him sweat a little.

  
But he’s trying to help. Why does Saulark have to make this so difficult?

  
“Yeah, I do,” He keeps his smile and tries to remain agreeable. “But I can still appreciate a warm, sunny-“

  
The door sweeps open and the room goes silent.

  
Captain Skath strides in. Marco knows it isn’t just him that feels the room drop a few degrees at the Captain’s arrival. Her gaze is cold and calculating, observing them as she enters the room as if she suspects they might’ve already screwed up their mission. It’s suffocating, it’s intimating, and Faavus and Saulark have stopped arguing in favor of standing at attention.

  
He might find her undeniably intimidating but right now, Marco is too relieved to care.

  
“Have all the necessary preparations been made?” The Captain demands.

  
Marco isn’t exactly sure what she means by ‘preparations’ since they aren’t bringing their tricorders and only Saulark and Faavus are bringing phasers (in case some genius decides to attack Marco on their home base). He still thinks that bringing two of his security guards is a little overkill for a standard supply restock but he isn’t about to argue with his Captain’s judgement.

  
“Yes, Captain.” Saulark, ever the good soldier, replies almost instantly. “We are ready to beam down on your command.”

  
Captain Skath gives a barely-there nod, “Good.”

  
It’s all she has to say on the matter before marching over to her transport pad. The rest of the landing party follows suit.

  
“Energize.”

  
Marco is certain he will never get used to the feeling of having his molecules rearrange themselves and float freely around in space. That, on top of finding himself near-instantaneously shoved into new surroundings, usually makes him feel slightly nauseated and today is no exception.

  
Definitely no exception.

  
He feels his feet stumbling forwards before familiar hands wrap around his arm to steady him. He’s immediately enveloped in a warm, calming energy, centering at the point of contact. Touch telepathy, another thing he’ll never get used to.

  
“Marco, you should discuss your motion sickness with Doctor V’Laak,” Saulark’s brows are furrowed, just slightly. Marco, who’s all too familiar with this repetitive gem of a conversation, flushes in embarrassment. Saulark always brings this up when they beam anywhere, no matter how many times Marco assures him that he’s completely fine. “I do not understand your repeated insistence at dismissing your own health when he could easily provide you with the proper medication.”

  
He’s not wrong and Marco has honestly considered it before, but he’s come to the conclusion that it would be ridiculous to medicate himself every single time he has to beam anywhere, which is a near daily occurrence, especially since his light-headedness wears off pretty quickly.

  
Of course, he can’t tell_ Saulark_ that because it won’t do anything to ease his concern so instead, he goes with, “I’m fine, Saul, really.”

  
It’s a poor attempt at lying, Marco himself can tell. His smile is too forced.

  
“I know you are lying and I find that I do not appreciate-“

  
“As quaint as this is,” Saulark and Marco turn their heads in almost complete unison, only to see Faavus giving them a funny look. “The Captain has left without us and I believe that we will lose her if we do not follow soon. Could we, perhaps, save the emotional displays for later?”

  
They must’ve been standing there for longer than Marco realized because the Captain has disappeared and a few passerby Vulcans in lab coats are now looking at them oddly. Saulark promptly detaches himself from Marco, though Marco notes that he doesn’t move far, and the calming energy he’d felt disappears without the contact. He finds himself disappointed with the loss.

  
“Ensuring the health and wellbeing of my charge is a logical course of action, not an emotional one.” Marco smiles; he knows Saulark well enough to pick out a lie.

  
“I could not care less if I had undergone Kolinahr.”

  
Saulark frowns, “That is not a statement with which to take pride. You should endeavor to show the same commitment to your position.”

  
Faavus coughs and Marco is one hundred percent sure it’s only to cover up a laugh.

  
“Could you remove yourselves from the transporter before the Captain loses her patience?”

  
Not needing to be told twice, Marco and Saulark are quickly off the platform and following Faavus as they track down the Captain. It takes a moment for Marco to reorient himself and it’s only then that he realizes they haven’t beamed down to the embassy. They are indeed in ShiKarh but Marco recognizes the Vulcan lab coats, the beeping machines, the arching structures.

  
They’re in the Vulcan Science Academy.

  
In retrospect, he should’ve realized that when Captain Skath said his input was requested for a project, she meant that _Science Academy scientists_ wanted his input for a project but the revelation that he’s going to be questioned about his emotions or maybe even prodded in a lab as a guinea pig is a little unnerving. By the time they find the Captain, Marco is already imagining vivid scenarios in his mind where he’s being dissected on a laboratory table by a giant fur-covered, pointy-eared, beady-eyed monstrosity with vicious fangs. He does not expect to have this dark fantasy beast replaced with the short and decidedly inoffensive-looking Vulcan man that is currently talking to his Captain.

  
“-showing progress. It reacts quickly enough for the time delay to be entirely negligible and displays a wide array of emotions.”

  
“That is indeed impressive. I look forward to seeing your Android in action, Mr. Serck.” Captain Skath lets her eyes settle on Marco. “I have brought a crewmember whom I believe to be uniquely suited to aid in your research.”

  
The Captain shifts her position so that Mr. Serck can get a full view of her four crewmembers but he doesn’t even glance at the others before zeroing in on Marco, whose five seconds of fear have now been replaced by pure, genuine excitement and a broad smile.

  
“Mr. Serck, this is Marco Famosa Armenteros, my Chief Communications Officer and the only Human crewmember aboard my vessel. Unfortunately, I have some urgent matters to attend to so I will not be able to join you but you may do with him as you see fit.” Skath faces her crewmembers. “We will reconvene at the transporter in one standard hour.”

  
She gives her team a stern look that very clearly reads as ‘Behave’ and waits for the chorus of ‘Yes, ma’am’s before taking off. Mr. Serck, for his part, steps forward, eyes wide in a sort of curious awe as if he’s never seen a Human before, and Marco, who’s bubbling with open enthusiasm, automatically holds out his hand to shake.

  
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Serck!”

  
There’s an uncomfortable silence as his companions all just stare at his hand. Marco has the distinct impression that he’s made a mistake but his mind is too much of a frazzled mess for him to figure what the mistake might be.

  
Faavus coughs into their hand, “Touch telepath.”

  
Oh.

  
_Oh!_

  
“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Marco yanks his hand away as if he’s just touched fire. “I know about Vulcan… hand-sensitivity. I’m just a little out of it right now and-“

  
Saulark steps forward, “You must forgive his ignorance, Mr. Serck. Travelling by transporter always leaves him lightheaded.”

  
The look Saulark gives him is pointed and Marco fully understands the implication behind it, but he’s too relieved to care. He beams at his friend, hoping to convey his gratitude.

  
“No matter,” Mr. Serck, bless his soul, dismisses the entire issue with a wave of his hand. The man might not be smiling but Marco can see the warmth in his eyes. He thinks he’s going to like this guy. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Marco. We have been awaiting your arrival for fifteen point seven Earth days.”

  
That’s strangely flattering to hear.

  
“Captain Skath tells me you want my input on an experiment about Human emotions?” Not quite a statement, not quite a question.

  
Mr. Serck’s eyes sparkle with poorly-concealed enthusiasm at the mention of his experiment, the mark of a true scientist.

  
“Indeed,” The Vulcan practically exclaims. “I believe you will find this experiment to be most intriguing. Let me show you.”

  
He turns on his heel and stalks away at a surprisingly brisk pace for such a short man. The landing party follows closely behind.

  
Now that he’s calmed down and beginning to think straight, Marco can’t help but appreciate the sheer size of the Science Academy. The halls are spacious, the ceiling is high enough to make Marco feel like an ant, and doors are few and far between, which can only mean that their labs are equally massive. If that wasn’t enough to impress him, the Vulcan architecture definitely would be. It may be devoid of the colour and flashy aesthetics that Humans so loved, but the majesty of the grand arching structures and criss-crossing beams more than made up for that. It’s surprisingly picturesque for a people that prides themselves on logic and strict functionality.

  
Mr. Serck’s lab is denoted by a large number 7 in a bold, black font on the front and he has to have his hand scanned in order to allow them entrance. Marco then discovers that the insides of the labs are just as impressive as the rest of the building. The room is purely white and black, playing as a stark contrast against each other and giving off an oddly medical feel, and this singular lab houses at least at least thirty different monitors, all scattered around the room, on walls, desks, chairs, everywhere. A few PADDs have been left abandoned on some of the spotless white desks and practically all of the seven or eight scientists scurrying around the room are carrying their own. Most of said scientists are migrating towards a cloth-covered chair posted in the center of the room with wires attached to it.

  
It comes without surprise that it’s that very chair that Mr. Serck approaches.

  
“My team has been working on this project for a total of forty-two point six Earth days.” He explains, eyeing Marco from his peripheral vision. “It is my great pleasure to introduce to you-“

  
The Vulcan reaches for the white cloth and carefully removes it, revealing a full-clothed male Human body.

  
What the-

  
“The first Vulcan-designed Human-inspired Android, complete with a wide spectrum of emoting capabilities.”

  
Marco didn’t think Vulcans could have a sense of dramatic timing but he can definitely tell that Mr. Serck is proud of himself for the introduction of his Android and Marco isn’t going to be the one to deny him that. The Android is impressive, after all. Appearing perfectly human, he has incredibly broad, masculine shoulders, a tuft of perfect blond hair and wide, unblinking black eyes.

  
He hears a distinct whistle from behind him that could’ve only come from Faavus, “Impressive.”

  
“This is so cool!” Marco agrees with them. “He looks just like a real person.”

  
“And I can assure you that it functions like one as well.”

  
Mr. Serck waves to one of the scientists (or maybe they’re technicians?) and she hooks up a wire to the Android before firing up a machine off to the side. Mr. Serck waits for her to give him a nod before he steps up to the chair and presses his hand behind the Android’s neck. Then suddenly the Android’s eyes are turning a bright, jubilant green and his stare lands directly on Mr. Serck.

  
“Android, stand.” He complies instantaneously and plants himself firmly in front of Mr. Serck. “This gentleman is going to ask you some questions,” Mr. Serck gestures towards Marco but the Android only gives him a passing glance. “Be sure to answer them to the best of your ability.”

  
“Yes, sir.” Oh wow, his voice is a lot deeper than Marco was expecting.

  
Then Mr. Serck and the Android’s eyes are on Marco and now that he’s here, he really doesn’t know what to say.

  
“Umm, hello!” are the first brilliant words that come out of his mouth. Marco gives the Android a sheepish smile and extends his hand, this time with some forethought. Surely a Human Android would know how to shake hands. “I’m Marco, nice to meet you.”

  
The Android returns his smile with double the charm and reaches both of his hands out to hold Marco’ in place. Marco expects him to shake his hand and let go, but instead they’re left standing in the middle of a laboratory populated by notetaking technicians and space explorers, awkwardly holding hands and smiling at each other because the Android won’t release him and he doesn’t want to push his luck (or hurt the guy’s feelings?) by yanking his hand away.

  
It’s exactly as awkward as it sounds.

  
Marco cranes his neck around to address Mr. Serck, “Is he supposed to…?”

  
“Lovingly hold the hands of strangers?” Faavus helpfully supplies.

  
Saulark glares at them, while Marco just releases an indignant huff at being mocked.

  
“It is responding in accordance to its limited knowledge of physical interactions. However, it may have been a miscalculation to program it with knowledge of Vulcan physiology, instead of Human physiology.” Mr. Serck responds pensively, scribbling something down onto an abandoned PADD that he apparently picked up.

  
It doesn’t immediately occur to Marco what that means but he would really like his hand back now, thank you. He’s starting to sweat and the Android’s sharp, green eyes on him are not helping. Saulark makes no effort to commiserate when Marco catches his eye but Faavus at least gives him a shrug. He tries to find solace in that.

  
“Is it customary,” The sound of the Android’s deep, resounding voice brings Marco’s attention back to him. “For Humans to initiate courting rituals upon first contact?”

  
“I’m sorry, _courting_?” Marco blurts out before he can think better of it.

  
It takes him a second longer than it should to realize that he just extended his hand to a Vulcan-programmed computer. He thought the Android would think like a Human but clearly, that was an oversight. And now Marco is fighting the strong urge to pull his hand away because this situation just became so much more uncomfortable.

  
He’s making out with a Vulcan Android in front of at least ten staring Vulcans, some of which are definitely more amused than strictly professional.

  
“Nono, wait-” Of all the times for his brain to fail at forming words. Sometimes Marco forgets that he’s supposed to be a professional linguist because apparently some part of his brain didn’t catch the memo. “It’s just a thing Humans do when we introduce ourselves to strangers. It’s not- It means something different to Humans. Because we aren’t… you know, touch telepaths. With super sensitive hands. Could you maybe let go of me please? This is getting really awkward.”

  
The Android obeys and removes his hands without a word, but Marco notes that he’s frowning exactly how a confused Human would. So he _does_ emote more than a Vulcan, good to know.

  
“My systems indicate that your heart rate is elevated. Is this not due to nerves invoked by fear of my rejecting your attempts at flirtation?”

  
Where did Marco go wrong with his life? All he wants is for a meteor to strike him down right here and now, please and thank you.

  
“_No_,” Marco answers too quickly. “No. Humans initiate physical contact for a lot of reasons, we’re a lot more touchy than Vulcans.”

  
“Does Earth not suffer from overpopulation?”

  
“Wha-“ Marco’ cheeks are burning and he really wishes that they could change topics. He would rather talk about literally anything else. “They’re_ friendly_ gestures of physical contact. Like handshakes or hugs or a pat on the back-“

“My programming does not account for these variables.” The Android’s blond brows furrow, obviously torn between confusion and irritation due to said confusion, and Marco is actually really impressed by how… Human it looks. If it weren’t for the formality of his Vulcan word choices, Marco might’ve been fooled. “Are they vital interaction tools?”

  
Marco grins, feeling a little more in his element now that the topic is drifting into safer territory.

  
“Absolutely! If you’re going to interact with Humans, you need to know their customs.” Body language and alien customs, final his area of expertise. Marco reaches his hand out to rest on the Android’s shoulder. “For example, a friend might-“

  
The second Marco’s hand makes contact with the Android’s shoulder, his eyes flicker to red.

  
“Marco, step back!” Saulark.

  
Marco barely has time to register Saulark and Faavus jumping in front of him with their phasers out before he feels a sharp pain at his shoulder and the world goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Skath was notorious for placing logic above emotion in every aspect of her life. She was rational, she was strategic, and she had ulterior motives behind her ulterior motives. Therefore, it’s without a second thought that her first plan of action upon arriving on Vulcan is to arrange a meeting with the Vulcan High Council.

However, she’s not nearly dense enough to be surprised by the first face that greets her upon her arrival to the council building.

“_Ashayam_.”

Standing there in all of his noble glory, arms held together loosely behind his back, is, unsurprisingly, Ambassador Nodoth. With his perfect posture and fortunate height, the Vulcan is almost a full head taller than Skath, though he would hardly be the first to surpass her in that department. Perhaps more impressive are his striking green eyes, which he unfortunately did not pass onto their only son, and his mop of unruly black hair that he keeps cut short for good measure. All of these compelling traits only serve to add to the natural charm and charisma that gave him his position as Vulcan Ambassador. He was a scientist at heart but a powerful man by profession, and this tended to constrain the majority of his time to either a lab or an office. It’s a problem that Captain Skath is perhaps solely equipped to understand.

There’s also the little matter about him being Skath’s husband.

“Ambassador Nodoth.” She does not stop walking and only barely glances his way. “What brings you here?”

“Do I need a reason to want to see my wife?”

Though she stubbornly keeps her eyes on her path, she can feel Nodoth’s eyes on her and she knows this conversation is far from over. Her suspicions are confirmed when her bondmate falls into step with her, matching her pace and focusing his gaze on the wall ahead of them.

“I was under the impression that you had important matters to attend to today.” Captain Skath deflects.

Nodoth's smile is small but definitely present when Skath side-eyes him. It’s far too much emotion for a Vulcan to be openly displaying.

“What could possibly be more important than seeing one’s beloved after waiting eighteen months, ten days, two hours and twenty-five minutes?” He catches her gaze. “Or perhaps you did not notice my absence?”

He’s teasing, Skath _knows _he’s teasing, but that doesn’t make the word choice sound any less accusatory.

“I have been otherwise preoccupied.” She tears her eyes away from him and continues walking. “Today is no different.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Finally, Skath stops in her tracks, forcing her husband to stop as well.

“Then why should I find you here and not at work?” She’s done beating around the bush.

“If I know my wife as well as I would like to think, she has a tendency to forget that life has more meaning than work.” Nodoth says. “I thought that perhaps a visit would be a welcome distraction.”

Captain Skath of the USS Set’ko was a ruthless leader and highly experienced strategist in both the combat and political battlefields. She was as perfectly emotionless as any Vulcan could ever hope to be, perhaps even one of the most impressively cold and unfeeling. However, she’d married Ambassador Nodoth for a reason and that reason was not his political advantage. She would not swoon and declare her undying love for him – that was something that only an unthinking and reckless Human would do – but that doesn’t mean that she was unaffected.

“I do not have time for distractions,” Skath gently brushes her fingers against her husband’s. “This meeting may decide the fate of the USS Set’ko and I must give it my undivided attention.”

Skath could read Nodoth’s thoughts through his eyes alone, clearer than any blatant Human expression; it’s a mixture of disappointment and understanding. It tells her every she needed to know and more but, unfortunately, there’s nothing more she could say on the matter. Ambassador Nodoth gives her a proper Vulcan kiss before she turns on her heel and enters the designated meeting room.

After such an interaction with her husband, it’s perhaps with unusually high spirits that Captain Skath enters her preplanned meeting. She had only good news to report to the High Council and she had no doubt that they would be pleased with her crew’s progress. It’s this confident mindset that keeps her patiently waiting as the council members slowly file into the room until one of them lifts a hand towards her and demands: “Begin your report, Captain Skath.”

This was the easy part: all Skath had to do was list off her crew’s activities and progress. No cause for concern, her crewmembers were all intelligent and loyal officers. However, she realized after detailing their third landing mission that she’d perhaps overlooked one minor detail.

“Is that Human part of every landing party?”

Skath has to pause at the question.

“Lieutenant Armenteros is my Chief Communications Officer.” She replies carefully. “I use him for exactly that purpose; does that come as a surprise?”

“Is he not a weak link? A Human aboard an all-Vulcan vessel? You must find him to be… rather inadequate. A Vulcan would be far more efficient in his position.”

“My officers are all perfectly reliable and he is no different.”

“Then why do you assign him a security detail?”

The Vulcan High Council would never understand Skath’s thought process; this was a fact she’d come to accept very early on. They allowed their need for cold Vulcan logic to cloud their better judgement and render them incredibly narrow-minded. Skath preferred to use logic as a means to keep her options open. She was a strategist, after all. A strategist always had a back up plan for her back up plan.

“Lieutenant Armenteros is proficient in three Human languages, seven point five non-Human languages, including Vulcan, which is an extremely difficult language for Humans to master. He is also familiar with the cultures, physiologies, sensitivities, diets, rituals, histories, and planetary atmospheres of over fifty different alien races, and a skilled radio operator.” Captain Skath declares, not in the least bit deterred. “He is, however, not trained in combat. I feel it would be unwise to endanger the life of such a valuable crewmember and potentially jeopardize our alliance with Earth by allowing our only Human crewmember to be irresponsibly left for dead. Is my judgement unsound?”

The Council member that had spoken up, Elder Jyr – Skath’s all time favourite, clearly - catches the eye of his seat neighbour and they exchange a look that Skath doesn’t appreciate.

“Your judgement is sound,” Another Council member declares. “Continue.”

Captain Skath continues her mission report for all of ten standard minutes before her communicator goes off. She absolutely does not flinch at the sound, but she’s not unaware of how hard she grips the device as she tells the Vulcan Council that she needs a moment before stepping out of the room and flipping it open to answer.

“This is Captain Skath.” She speaks into the communicator.

“Captain,” It’s Saulark and Skath already knows he has bad news to report_._ Her son knows better than to interrupt her in a meeting with the _High Council_ for anything short of an emergency. “We have a problem.”

A lesser Vulcan might’ve rolled their eyes or heaved a sigh. Captain Skath, for her part, only stares at the bland wall in front of her and wishes death upon it.


	3. Chapter 3

The Medbay on board the USS Set’ko is impressive, to say the least. It comprises an entire level of the starship and each patient has their own small room, complete with a biobed, a healthy stock of supplies and hyposprays, and four see-through walls that can be easily rendered opaque by a vocal command. The fifty individual rooms are all located the width of a polished white hallway apart, leading to an extensive (and admittedly, confusing) maze of halls and square quarters. It’s grand and impressive, and vaguely intimidating with the constant stench of a medical institution.

It’s that faint smell that first alerts Marco to his location. He shifts uncomfortably on the biobed.

“Oh, finally!” The familiar voice is his second indicator.

The little trumpeting noise that follows is the final and conclusive hint that he is most _definitely_ in Medbay.

“Captain to Medbay.”

“This is the Captain. What is it, Doctor?”

“Captain, Lieutenant Armenteros is awake. Shall I send him to the bridge?”

“No, keep him still, I do not wish to worsen his state. I will arrive momentarily.”

Marco sets a lazy arm above his face before carefully blinking his eyes open, avoiding the blinding light as much as possible. His eyes easily find his company haloed in the light.

Doctor V’Laak, the ship’s Leading Medical Officer.

Being naturally tall, broad and about the equivalent of twenty Earth years older than Marco himself, Doctor V’Laak looks exactly how Marco would picture a military officer. He has the navy Set’ko uniform, naturally donning the Medical white belt, a buzz cut, a stubble beard, and narrow golden eyes, which is a little unusual when paired with the pointed ears and arched-up eyebrows characteristic to Vulcans. He even has a bionic arm – after losing his in an accident that he doesn’t like to talk about – and he’s so over the top dramatic that he keeps it metallic, even though he could easily hologram it to look like flesh. At first glance, he’s large and intimidating.

It’s impressive, really, how the man looks _nothing_ like he acts.

While large and intimidating in his stature, the Doctor is as gentle as they come and always friendly with his patients. Besides Kunyck (and Faavus when they slip and let out an amused snort), he’s the only Vulcan that Marco has ever seen smile. He also speaks like a Human but Marco attributes most of the Doctor’s quirkier traits and speech patterns to his time training on Earth.

The little magenta-coloured elephant (Marco knows the creature is called a vierdam_,_ from some M-class planet he can never remember the name of, but she _really _looks like a tiny, house-cat-sized elephant and definitely sounds like one), affectionately named Mocha, currently flanking his side as he scans Marco’s vitals certainly dulls the intimidation effect.

“What was it this time? Poison? Toxic fumes? A blow to the head?” Marco asks, half-suspecting his joke might not be far off the mark.

The Head Doctor openly laughs at that but doesn’t divert his gaze from whatever he’s marking down on his PADD, “Don’t be so melodramatic. You just got nerve-pinched, you’re fine.”

Oh right, now it’s coming back to him. Marco tries not to grimace.

“Depends on your definition of ‘fine’.” He grumbles, unable to help himself.

Doctor V’Laak finally makes eye contact with Marco and normally he would be delighted to see the Doctor smiling at him in such clear, unrestrained amusement, but Marco has a very bad feeling about where this is going.

“Yeah, I heard.” Theory confirmed. Bad feeling justified. “Lieutenant Faavus said you tried to shake hands with a Vulcan-programmed Android. Of all the bad decisions you’ve made to end up here-“

“This was the dumbest.” Marco groans, dropping his arm on his face so that he won’t have to look the Doctor in the eyes. “I know, I know.”

He hears weak, distressed trumpeting and peeks out from under his arm to see a tiny, prosthetic trunk attempting to reach onto the biobed. Mocha is trying to comfort him - can’t quite reach but is clearly trying hard - and Marco can’t hold back a smile.

“Okay, stop moping.” The Doctor returns half of his attention to his PADD and marks something else down. “You’re stressing out my vierdam.”

Marco breaks out into a grin, unable to hold it back any longer, and throws his legs over the side of the biobed so that he has easier access to Mocha.

“Aww, you’re not upset,” He reaches down to the little critter and strokes her head. “Are you, Mocha?”

Mocha trumpets enthusiastically, bounces up and down like a happy puppy, and curls her metallic red trunk around Marco’ wrist as firmly as she can. Marco can’t help himself: soon enough, he’s down on his knees on the floor, petting and playing with the vierdam like his life depends on it.

It’s not the first time he realizes why Doctor V’Laak keeps his animals around Medbay: Marco finds this incredibly therapeutic and he can imagine many other patients would too.

He doesn’t notice the Doctor shaking his head at him and the baby elephant.

“But Marco, in all seriousness,” Marco’ smile falters a little, despite the Doctor’s light tone, but he keeps his gaze focused on Mocha. “The Captain’s not happy that you passed out in a research lab in front of-“

Marco’s head snaps up.

“Was _attacked by an Android_ in a research lab!”

“_And in doing so_,” Doctor V’Laak cuts him off in return with a pointed look. “Proved a flaw in the research project of some of the Science Academy’s greatest minds.”

Marco feels a little indignant at that. Yes, he triggered something in their robot and yes, attempting any form of physical contact with a Vulcan-made entity was definitely a bad idea_,_ but it wasn’t like he _wanted _to get nerve-pinched. And _they_ were the ones who asked him to test their project in the first place! He was only accepting half the blame for this one.

“Okay, but there _was _a flaw. Their Android knocked me out, that’s not normal ‘human behaviour’.” He makes air quotes with his free hand.

“You _also_ interrupted the Captain’s meeting with the Vulcan High Council.”

Oh yikes. That’s a much bigger concern.

Marco gives Doctor V’Laak a half-hearted attempt at a smile that probably ends up more nervous than anything, “Do you think I could avoid her for a few days? Maybe switch a few shifts around?”

“She told me she wanted a report from you as soon as you woke up. And she’s on her way here right now.”

Whelp.

He had a nice life.

“I could play dead.” He proposes with a cheeky grin.

Doctor V’Laak laughs good-naturedly and Marco finds his own spirits lifting.

“You can’t avoid her forever, Marco.” He insists, smiling despite his words. “I would suggest getting it over with sooner rather than later.”

Doctor V’Laak puts his stylus in its holder on the PADD, Marco’s warning that he’s about to leave. Marco takes the hint and gives Mocha one last scrub behind her big ears before sitting himself back on the biobed. Mocha lets out a little happy tut and rubs her head against Marco’s leg in further demand.

“If her glare disintegrates me, I’m going to haunt you in the afterlife.”

The Doctor turns his back on Marco to stroll over to the door but Marco can hear his smile nonetheless, “Good, you can keep Mocha and Brandy company.”

Marco couldn’t hold back his grin even if he wanted to, and with those final words, the good Doctor leaves Marco’s patient quarters with Mocha rushing to follow behind. Captain Skath arrives only a few minutes later.

“Lieutenant.” She greets, letting herself in.

If Marco sits up straighter, it’s not an intentional response, but an instinctive one.

“Captain.”

Captain Skath clasps her hands in front of her and regards him as one might regard a boring, motionless plant.

“I spoke to the Doctor and he assured me that you are in good health. I have already relieved you from your current shift but I expect you to return to your duties in the shift that follows.”

It’s formatted like an order, because the Captain only ever speaks in statements and orders, but Marco knows from experience that it’s meant as a question. Does he feel well and is he ready to get back to work? He has no idea how she’d react if he ever outright refused an order but he knows her to be observant and tactful enough to manipulate any situation in her favour. If he shows any sign of weakness and hesitation when responding, she will find a valid, logical reason to make him sit out however many shifts he would need to recover.

It’s always been this tact that’s made her such a good Captain, despite her lack of basic charisma and empathy.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good,” The words don’t match the complete neutrality of her tone but she doesn’t sound angry either, so Marco can only assume that she’s sufficiently satisfied with his response. “In addition, I think you should know that Mr. Serck and his team’s Android has been boarded onto our vessel for further testing.”

Wait.

_What?_

“Wait- They-“ It takes a moment for Marco’s brain to catch up to his mouth, as is usually the case, and he valiantly tries to suppress his rising distress. “_Why?_”

The Captain doesn’t frown at him, doesn’t even flinch, but the way she pauses before responding to him is enough to tell him that she can tell he’s upset by the news and she’s displeased by this fact.

“Our ship’s engineers are some of the most qualified experts in their field.” She says, as if Marco just challenged the abilities of her crew, which yeah, okay, he understands where she got that from but it definitely _wasn’t_ what he meant. He just really doesn’t feel like getting nerve-pinched in front of a dozen people ‘in the name of Science’ again.

“But why are they taking over someone else’s project?”

The much more pointed question makes Captain Skath pause, carefully measuring her next words. Marco doesn’t know what to make of her cautious behaviour.

“Saulark damaged the Android in his attempts to protect you,” Well, _that _explains her reluctance to discuss the topic. “And our crew is being held accountable. As such, our engineers have been tasked with repairing the unit and Saulark has been personally assigned to the recovery project. He will be too preoccupied with this matter to act as your security detail so Kunyck will be taking all of his security shifts until the Android is fully restored to its previous degree of functionality.”

Marco nods along but remains carefully quiet. There’s just something her eyes that makes him feel that he should tread with caution.

“I am informing you of this because I want your assurance that you will stay away from that Android for the duration of its stay on our ship.”

Of course. He should’ve guessed.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Captain Skath’s eyes lock onto him, as if scanning for any hint of a lie, but whatever she finds must be satisfactory because she makes no further comment on the matter.

“Good,” is all she says. “Now get some rest. I would prefer to have you return to your duties in good condition.”

She turns on her heels and leaves without so much as a goodbye and Marco is left sitting on his biobed, all alone in his patient’s quarters in Medbay, wishing that Faavus, Saulark or Kunyck would come keep him company.


	4. Chapter 4

Marco doesn’t see Saulark for a full three days after “the incident”. Captain Skath returns to the surface of Vulcan every morning with a small landing party and stays there for the whole day, but Marco is expressly forbidden from leaving the Set’ko. The Captain also makes a point to remind him _in front of the entire bridge crew _before she leaves every morning that he is to stay away from the Android reparation team, which he finds a bit excessive, though he always responds with the obligatory “Yes, Ma’am”. He feels exactly the same as he did when his mother would ground him and send him to his room when he was five, and if this is how the Captain is handling _him_, he can only imagine how she’s treating Saulark. Marco hasn’t even heard from him and three days is probably the longest they’ve ever gone without talking. It’s disorienting, to say the least.

But he tries not to think about the trouble he got his guard in, purposely keeping himself busy by losing at 3D chess against Faavus and letting Kunyck rave to him about the fascinating biology of this new creature she and Doctor V’Laak have been analyzing from the last planet they visited. He even takes on an extra shift to make up for missing (read: passing out during) his last one.

It doesn’t get the Android off his mind - Saulark’s unusual absence is a constant reminder of that - but it’s enough of a distraction that it doesn’t weigh him down. Marco doesn’t worry about it again until Kunyck brings it up when they’re having supper in the recreation room a few days later.

“The creature uses her _tails_ as ears and her _ears_ as her eyes!” She’s gesturing wildly with complete disregard to the food she’s holding, which is throwing cookie crumbs everywhere, and grinning like she won the lottery. Marco nods and holds eye contact for as long as he can. He knows this means a lot to her and normally, he would love hearing one of her stories. But his mind keeps drifting and with it, so does his gaze. “Or I guess a better comparison would be antennae. It is amazing, really! She has three tails but she only uses two at the time, which is a truly brilliant evolutionary development in her species- I mean, if a predator catches her by the tail-“

She inhales a deep breath, fully intent on continuing her rant, but Marco’s smile is pinched and nothing gets passed Kunyck. She sets her cookie down and Marco can already sense what she’s going to say.

“You have been awfully quiet the past few days.” She points out. “Is something the matter?”

Marco glances up from his replicated omelette, which he’s been unconsciously poking at for the past five minutes, and finds sincere concern in her eyes and a hesitant smile at her lips. Marco laughs without any mirth and drops his eyes back down to his fake food.

“No. Well… Yes, but,” He struggles to put his thoughts into words. “No, I just- I wish I could get an update. On the Android repairs. I haven’t heard from Saulark and the Captain won’t let me go near the workshop. I just... You know. I feel bad.”

Kunyck is easily one of the most intelligent and observant people on the ship. Taller than both Marco and Faavus, she keeps her black hair styled up in a complicated twist of braids with a singular blue dyed streak that matches her eyes, her hard-earned white Medical officer’s belt around her slender hips, and a full wattage smile that she never hides. It’s probably due to her impressive emotional sensitivity that, even despite their strongly contrasting backgrounds and heritages, Kunyck has always been on the same page as Marco concerning most matters.

Kunyck’s smile becomes apprehensive and Marco finds himself eternally gratefully that she’s so good at reading people because his thoughts are so often a jumbled mess that it’s nice that at least _someone_ understands what he’s thinking, even if it’s not him.

“You cannot blame yourself for matters which are not within your control.” She says easily. “The Android chose to attack you and Saulark chose to damage Vulcan Science Academy property. Neither action was your own doing.”

“I triggered the Android.”

“You made a very Human mistake.”

“Exactly!” Marco throws down his fork, tossing aside any remaining guise of eating his food. “_I_ made the mistake! Saulark shouldn’t be blamed for my mistakes, it’s stupid!”

Kunyck isn’t the least bit thrown off by his sudden raise in volume. She remains passive and calm, with a gentle smile that speaks volumes of her deeper understanding.

“Do you believe that blaming yourself will make a difference?”

“No, of course not, but-“

“Then what purpose could it possibly serve?”

Marco knows that, as his friend, Kunyck is duty-bound to make him feel better about himself and the situation, so it’s not like he’s oblivious to what she’s aiming for with this. But for the first time in three days, his guilt is just a little less unbearable.

But his focus is diverted too soon as Kunyck’s eyes drift to somewhere behind Marco before smiling and he knows he has to check his uncharacteristic negativity for whoever’s incoming.

“_Lieu_-tenant Armenteros,” Marco’s relieved to find that it’s Faavus who plops down next to him, though he’s barely given a greeting and glance before Faavus is fixating on the plate in the center of the table, eyeing the small stack of cookies like they haven’t seen food for days. They have one hand in the plate before they can even ask, “What is today’s concoction?”

It’s a completely genuine grin that lights up Marco’s face.

“Vulcan cookies.” He answers easily.

“They are very good,” Kunyck supplies with a matching grin.

Faavus snatches up a cookie and takes a bite, chewing carefully so as to decipher the ingredients.

“Did you use n’gaan?” They ask.

“Yup.”

The Vulcan equivalent of peppermint. It’s one of Saulark’s favourite spices so Marco uses it a lot more than he would in his baking back home.

“It is satisfactory,” Faavus remarks. Marco’s smile widens; as bland as Faavus’ word choice is, that’s a compliment, especially since Marco knows very well that Faavus would sincerely tell him if they think his food is disgusting. “A shame though, that Saulark is not here to try them. He enjoys n’gaan.”

And of course, the conversation comes back to Saulark’s absence. Marco would be lying if he didn’t acknowledge that his smile drops a little. Faavus continues to nibble on their cookie.

“So, what were you two talking about?” They ask.

Marco opens his mouth to respond but-

“Marco misses Saulark.” Kunyck speaks first.

Marco is bound by his pride to protest because okay, _yes, _he misses his primary guard because he’s so used to having him around but she doesn’t have make him sound so _needy_, thanks Kunyck.

“Hardly news-worthy.” Faavus replies with an eye roll. “Is that really all you spoke about?”

“_No_,” Marco cuts in. “Kunyck was also telling me about her creature thingy with- with the tails and the…” He looks to Kunyck for help. “Antennas?”

Kunyck perks up at the mention.

“Her name is Gespar!”

“Wait, another food name?” Marco snorts. “Brandy, Mocha, Gespar; why does Doctor V’Laak name all of his pets after food?”

“He _does_ have an odd penchant for food names, I have never noticed that before.”

“You,” Faavus points at Marco. “Are changing the topic.”

Naturally, Faavus would notice. Marco should’ve guessed as much. But it’s okay, Marco’s a master of diversion.

“What was the topic?”

Faavus raises a single, unimpressed eyebrow.

“I see Saulark’s absence has not suddenly gifted you with subtlety.”

Marco makes a face and valiantly refrains from sticking his tongue out at Faavus before conceding defeat. He misses Saulark. They all do. Also, Saulark would be giving Faavus the longest lecture about poking fun at Marco right now and Marco can’t deny that he would _really _like that.

“Okay so I’m a little worried about him.” Marco admits. “I just feel bad that the Captain locked him away for doing his job.”

“Inaccurate. She locked him away for _destroying someone else’s property_.”

“Well, if we are debating the matter, it can easily be argued that it was a necessary precaution to ensure Marco’s safety.” Kunyck pitches in unhelpfully_._

“Guys, that’s not the point!”

Kunyck kindly gives Marco an apologetic little smile but Faavus really looks like they couldn’t care less. They reach back into the cookie platter to grab another.

“Why not simply visit him?” Faavus suggests. “You could even bring him some n’gaan cookies.”

Marco sags a little. It’s not like he hasn’t thought it; in the last few days, it’s definitely come to mind more than once. But the Captain said no and he might be just a _little_ scared of her.

“I can’t, the Captain said I couldn’t go near the workshop.” He recites for the second time today.

Faavus looks him straight in the eyes and bites off a large chunk of cookie, “The Captain does not need to know.”

There’s a pause between them where Saulark would normally insert a firm ‘no’ before the four of them start debating but since Saulark _isn’t _here, as they’ve now established multiple times, the unfilled silence only serves to build tension.

Kunyck collects herself before Marco, “That is far too great a risk-“

“I’m listening.”

Faavus may as well be smirking with that self-satisfied look in their eyes and the upwards tilt to their chin. They lean on the table so as to angle themselves better to face Marco.

“I can easily access the workshop’s shift schedule from an Operations officer,” They begin without hesitation. “So that we can pinpoint when Saulark is working with the least number of other engineers. There will be security personnel guarding the door, it is an important project after all, so we will need a way to bypass them.”

“Easy: vents.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“It’ll have to be when the Captain’s off the ship so she can’t catch me.”

“It should also be while you are scheduled to work so you have an alibi. You can take a ‘washroom break’.”

Piece of cake, just another Tuesday. Marco is completely aware that he’s grinning like a lunatic but he really couldn’t care less. He hasn’t had a taste of adventure all week and he’s ready for a Mission Impossible stunt.

“_Or_,” Kunyck interrupts. Faavus and Marco’s eyes divert to her. “You could just send a message to his PADD.”

Marco deflates. So yeah, she obviously has a point, messaging would be the simplest solution. But it won’t allow Marco to _see_ Saulark.

Faavus raises an eyebrow and Marco can already sense the counterstrike.

“He has been grounded. Do you truly believe that the Captain would allow him to keep his PADD?” Faavus counters. “Besides, this is far more interesting.”

That _would_ explain the lack of messages, Marco hadn’t thought of that.

“And far more risky…” Kunyck hesitates.

She’s no longer trying to convince them, Marco’s certain. She’s trying to convince _herself_ that helping them is a bad idea. But Saulark is at least 90% of the entire group’s impulse control so there was no way she was getting out of this.

“Aww, come on, Kunyck,” Marco puts on his brightest smile. “Please?”

“Marco will let you choose the main ingredient in his next recipe.”

“I will.” Marco nods along enthusiastically. “Anything you want. Vulcan food. Earth food. I think we even have some Orion ingredients left.”

Kunyck hesitates- “Okay, okay, fine!” For approximately two seconds.

“Thank you!” Marco exclaims.

Faavus just sits back in their seat, radiating pride and satisfaction.

Kunyck lets out a deprecating laugh, shaking her head, but it has an unmistakable air of fondness to it. “You two are impossible. I cannot wait for Saulark to return.”

Faavus side-eyes Marco and the two seconds of eye contact is enough for them to come to a mutual understanding.

“Kunyck,” Faavus nods to her and Marco’s certain he sees the ghost of a smile on that ‘neutral’ face. “I believe I missed your description of a creature with tails and antennae.”

And the light is back in Kunyck’s eyes so quickly that Faavus might as well have flicked a switch. Kunyck rants to them for over an hour and Marco shows up late to his shift because he doesn’t have the heart to stop her. He doesn’t regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the conversation between Saulark and his mother more or less going like that one scene in Teen Wolf.
> 
> Captain: Saulark, you are grounded. You will be working in the Engineering department every day until that Android is fixed.  
Saulark: But I am an Engineer, I work there every day anyway.  
Captain: Fine then no PADD for you.  
Saulark: But I need my PADD to fix the Android.  
Captain: Then... No Marco!  
Marco: What?! No Marco?!  
Captain: NO MARCO!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5, yay! Okay so the next chapter will hopefully be posted within the next two weeks.

They execute their plan the very next day.

It’s a simple plan, really. Marco leaves his post to go on a bathroom break, climbs into the ventilation system and gets into the workshop, while Faavus requests to speak with the only other engineer on duty with Saulark and Kunyck stands watch outside the transporter room in case the Captain decides to beam up ahead of schedule.

Piece of cake.

The only part of the plan they forgot to fully consider was that in order to exit the vents, someone would have to open the hatch for Marco from the outside and while this didn’t seem like a problem at the time, Marco realizes now that he definitely underestimated how displeased Saulark would be with their blatant disregard for the Captain’s orders.

“What are you doing.” Saulark deadpans.

Marco thinks the answer to that is pretty obvious: he just spent a solid five minutes crawling through the ship’s stuffy vents and he’s now crouched in an incredibly uncomfortable position, holding a couple of wrapped up cookies and calling out to Saulark. If that doesn’t scream “I disobeyed direct orders from the Captain and crawled through the vents to come visit you!”, Marco doesn’t know what will.

That said, his first instinct is still to avoid the oncoming lecture.

“Okay, I swear I can explain this. But could you let me out of here first?”

Saulark crosses his arms. Not a good sign.

“No. Answer the question.”

Marco shifts uncomfortably inside the vents, suddenly very aware that he might be stuck in here for awhile if Saulark doesn’t like his answer.

“I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious.” He half-forces out a lazy grin, refusing to be deterred. “_Clearly_, I’m cleaning the vents.”

Saulark doesn’t grant him the satisfaction of an emotional response. Instead, he pauses, thoughtfully hums, and picks up his PADD, dropping his eyes onto its screen.

“Then I suppose I should leave you to your task.” Is all he offers.

And he _actually _starts to walk away.

“Nono, wait!” Marco panics and forgets that screaming is probably not the best way to keep his cover. “I came to see you!”

Saulark stops walking and with the Vulcan’s stare suddenly on him, words just start bubbling out of Marco without much forethought.

“I was- I was worried- You know, because the- the robot- the Android- And you just kinda disappeared and Faavus was getting worried too. I mean, they didn’t _say _they were worried but I can just tell, you know? And I made cookies-“ He gestures wildly at the baked goods in his hands. “And I just-“

“_Marco_,” Saulark interrupts, dropping down his PADD on the nearest desk. “Calm down, you are going to run out of breath.”

Marco gives him an apologetic smile, “You’re not actually mad, are you?”

Saulark heaves a sigh and finally gives in, unlocking the hatch and moving it aside to make room for Marco to exit the vent.

“No, of course not.”

Marco could not be grinning wider if he tried.

“Good,” He easily slips out of the vent, cookies in hand, and stretches his aching limbs. “Because it was starting to get _really_ cramped in there.”

Although he’s not sure that he’s more comfortable inside the workshop either because, now that he’s out of the vent, he can very clearly see the Android standing on full display in the middle of the room with half of its face missing, staring vacantly at a wall, and it’s more than a little unnerving. He half expects the Android to suddenly wake up and charge at him.

“That is likely because they were not designed for comfort.”

Marco brings his attention back to Saulark and acts like he isn’t uncomfortable with the Android’s presence, “Yeah okay, that’s fair.”

Saulark raises an eyebrow when Marco’s gaze flicks over to the Android again but he decides not to comment.

“How’s the Android doing?” Marco asks on a more serious note.

The shift in atmosphere is so abrupt and obvious with the way Saulark’s face closes off that Marco can instantly tell he hit a nerve. Naturally, he’d assumed that Saulark would be upset with the situation but seeing it in person is a whole other matter.

“We are almost done rebuilding but the programming is a work in process. I have advised Mr. Serck to program the Android with a sort of… _desire_ to be more Human.”

“You want to make him _want _to be Human?” Marco frowns a little. “Isn’t that kinda- I don’t know… wrong?”

“It is _safe_,” Saulark responds, very curtly, very formally. “I believe that it will avoid the occurrence of another incident.”

Marco’s gaze drops to the floor at the mention of ‘the incident’ and he unconsciously picks at the wrapping on the n’gaan cookies he brought, he can already feel his guilt rising back up again.

“Is the Captain…” He struggles to word it exactly how he wants to. “Really mad at you?”

He lifts his eyes to see Saulark’s reaction and their stares lock. Saulark’s lack of facial expression is giving nothing away and that in itself tells Marco everything he needs to know.

He already knows Saulark isn’t going to answer his question.

“As much as I appreciate your concern,” It doesn’t sound genuine and he’s already picking up his PADD like he can’t even be bothered to finish this conversation before fleeing. “I really need to return to work.”

Marco raises his hands placatingly.

“I won’t keep you,” He gives Saulark a hesitant smile. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Saulark enlarges whatever’s on his PADD, marches purposefully up to the Android and shifts his gaze back and forth between the screen and the Android’s face. Marco’s not stupid, he knows Saulark is just using it as an excuse not to look him in the eye.

“You can rest assured, I am okay.”

_What a blatant lie. _Marco tactfully keeps that thought to himself.

“Right.” He drawls out instead.

Saulark looks at him, pauses, thinks, averts his eyes to the Android again, and seems to find some kind of answer in the computer’s cold, dead eyes- eye. Marco really hopes they rebuild the second half of his face soon, it’s really throwing him off.

“As I am suspended from field duty for the duration of our time on Vulcan,” Saulark reaches behind the Android’s neck and presses what Marco assumes to be the power button. The Android’s eyes light up in a vibrant green. “I am not permitted to visit my father before we leave.”

Oh. _Oh._

That’s even worse than Marco expected.

“What- But that’s- _Why?_” He blurts out.

“Captain’s orders.” Despite obvious efforts to remain neutral, he looks defeated and Marco’s shock quickly turns into something icy and sharp in the pit of his stomach.

Captain Skath has a very… special personality. She’s dry and has an impressive ability to put emotions on the backburner, and it’s enough for Marco to forget – more often than not – that she is Saulark’s mother. She certainly never treats him like anything more than a general soldier.

“We can sneak you out.”

Saulark refuses to look him in the eyes, “I do not want to worsen the situation. I have made enough mistakes-”

Marco jams himself directly between the Android and Saulark, cutting him off and forcing eye contact. Saulark, a close friend of both Marco and Faavus, knows a thing or two about stubbornness and firmly stands his ground, matching the intensity of Marco’s stare.

“Was protecting me a mistake?”

Saulark opens his mouth to reply but before he can, his eyes snap to something over Marco’s shoulder.

“Lieutenant Commander Saulark.”

Marco whips around so fast that he stumbles over his own feet and as soon as he sets eyes on the robot’s freaky black orb of death – when did the eye change colour? - he finds himself clutching the cookies to his chest and backing into Saulark before he can fully process what’s happening.

“Your levels of anxiety are rising at an alarming rate.”

The Android is fixating on Saulark and seems to be _analyzing _him, even as his eye flicks back into that safe green hue. Marco is distracted until it’s too late and immediately regrets having missed his guard’s reaction to the accusation. Before Marco can utter a word or even crane his head back far enough to face Saulark, the Vulcan in question is already moving around Marco to get to the robot.

“Are you stressed or fluster-“

Saulark reaches behind the Android’s neck and powers him off.

“The Android is still recovering.” Saulark refuses to make eye contact with Marco. “It is in no condition to be making mental assessments.”

Marco isn’t an idiot; he knows a cover-up lie when he sees one, but he restrains the instinctive urge to bombard Saulark with a million prodding questions about it.

_Are you okay?_

Marco holds his tongue for once.

“Okay but hypothetically,” He tries instead, leaning into Saulark’s space to try to catch his gaze again. “If you _were _stressed, you know you could talk to me. Right, Saul?”

Saulark stares resolutely at the ground.

“You have been here for ten standard minutes; the bridge crew will soon make note of your extended absence.” Ten minutes? That was a remarkably vague measurement for Saulark. It sets off alarm bells in Marco’s head. “I think you should leave now.”

Part of Marco wants to stay and protest – shout that he knows, because he _does _know, that Saulark is burying his stress and _emotions _behind that neutral Vulcan mask like he always does – but the smarter part of Marco, the part that’s gotten to know Saulark rather well over the past six months, understands that the last thing Saulark needs right now is to be pushed.

And so, he’ll wait.

“Okay.” Marco smiles and sets his peace offering on the nearest table. “Let me know what you think of the cookies.”

He climbs back into the vents without another word but he doesn’t miss the way Saulark’s eyes linger on the n’gaan cookies, clearly deep in thought about something that was likely completely irrelevant to the delicious baked goods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saulark dear, can't you just tell your friends that you miss them?
> 
> Please comment and leave a kudos if you liked this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

It takes them five days to fully rebuild the Android and alter its programming. It’s at the end of their final arduous day of non-stop programming that Mr. Serck announces to his team and the Set’ko engineers that he wants to test the Android. The Captain’s son, Lieutenant Commander Saulark, exchanges a glance with another one of the starship’s engineers, a half-bred Allasomorph by the name of Reina, and Mr. Serck understands their mutual concern. They’ve woken up the Android a few times during its reconstruction but never for an interaction, only for a brief visual assessment – of its eyes, its voice, its scanning processes. But Mr. Serck finally believes that his creation is ready for an interaction and, as such, he will provide exactly that.

“Are we all prepared?” He asks distractedly as he prepares his PADD to take notes.

He hears a chorus of “yes, sir”s and, with no objections to be heard, it’s enough for him to step in front of the Android and reach behind its neck to power it on. Its green eyes light up and land on Mr. Serck immediately.

“Android,” He demands. “Run full systems scan.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Android’s stare turns vacant for exactly 2.17 seconds as it runs through a systems check of itself.

“All systems are in order.”

Mr. Serck nods and makes a note on his PADD, “Report your assessment.”

The Android shifts uncomfortably in a very non-robotic way but Mr. Serck is too distracted to pay it much mind.

“…vocal functions active.” Mr. Serck glances up from his notes when he hears the Android say that and it immediately comes to his attention that the Android is avoiding eye contact. “Auditory functions-“

“Android.” Mr. Serck interrupts.

They’ve done this so many times – it’s just so _rountine _– that even without Mr. Serck’s practically eidetic Vulcan memory, he would’ve noticed the odd shift in the Android’s procedure. Its behaviour is one thing – the way it refuses to hold eye contact, the way it’s shifting on its feet, the clear tension in its body language – but it’s not what Mr. Serck is focused on.

“You forgot to state your model number.”

An _Android _never forgets.

“I do not have a model number,” The Android straightens its back and holds its hands formally behind itself in a rather rigid military posture. “I am one of a kind.”

Mr. Serck makes immediate note of that response.

“Incorrect.” It’s the young Saulark that speaks up first. He’s frowning, clearly puzzled, and when the Android turns to him, it wears a matching expression. Confusion. How delightfully Human. “You are a machine and therefore have a model number. If you are unable to recall it, then your self-assessment was wrong and your systems are not fully functional.”

The Android’s eyes flash red and Mr. Serck prepares himself to jump into action and turn it off, except that before he can, the joyful green is back and the Android is tilting its head. Mr. Serck does not smile – he would never admit to such a thing – but he feels an inkling of joy and he’s far too focused to even consider that it may show just as much in his eyes as it would in a Human’s delighted grin.

“I find I do not appreciate your presence, Lieutenant Commander.” The Android calmly addresses Saulark. “Though this may be due in part to the negative association of having you destroy my corporeal vessel.”

The Lieutenant Commander opens his mouth to protest and that’s when Mr. Serck decides to cut in. Things are going too well to have it all be ruined by one nosy engineer.

“He is correct, Lieutenant Commander Saulark.” Mr. Serck tells the boy. “Would you mind stepping out for a moment? In fact, could everyone please step out for a moment? I would like to speak with the Android alone.”

Mr. Serck’s crew, who are all very used to his antics, immediately grab their own supplies and exit the room. The Set’ko crew, however, all look to Lieutenant Commander Saulark who does not seem quite as eager to leave.

His frown deepens, “I do not think that it is wise-“

“Lieutenant Commander, please,” Mr. Serck gives a dismissive wave. “This Android is my own creation; it will not harm me. Surely five minutes to speak alone is not an unreasonable request.”

Lieutenant Commander Saulark hesitates – truly his mother’s son, not stupid by any means – but in the end, his good will towards Mr. Serck must win out over his internal concerns because he gives his crew a curt nod and they all promptly dismiss themselves.

“Thank you.” The Android says once they’re finally alone in the room.

“Do you find yourself feeling gratitude?”

Mr. Serck deposits his PADD on the nearest table then turns towards the Android, sharp eyes observing every tick and twitch.

The Android raises an eyebrow and Mr. Serck delights in the gesture, “Do you doubt the sincerity of my words?”

“No, I question the source.” Mr. Serck admits. “Do you feel genuine emotion?”

The Android paused. It was not a pause to think or to fully process the question - no, it was a pause that denoted a desire not to answer at all. It was enough hesitation for Mr. Serck to be certain that the Android was not pleased with its own answer.

“No.”

Bingo.

The too-Human gestures, the clear distress at the mention of its inhumanity, the immediate dislike of Saulark, and now the obvious desire to feel emotion? The Android wanted to be Human. Desperately.

Mr. Serck had achieved exactly what he wanted. It was almost _too _easy.

“But you were designed to be Human.” He plays along, watching the Android’s jaw clench. “Humans feel emotion; are you faulty?”

“_No._” The Android snaps, eyes flashing red once again before flickering back to green.

“Then I suppose you shall simply always be an Android. You cannot be Human, after all, your vessel is only synthetic and your thoughts are only programmed. You will never be anything greater than what I have programmed you to be.”

And that’s enough – it’s the final straw.

The Android snaps beyond what Mr. Serck expected. It doesn’t go for a Vulcan nerve-pinch like he anticipated or simply charge out of the room or power off because of overheating sensors. No, it seems Lieutenant Commander Saulark's alterations to Mr. Serck's program worked a little too well. When it snaps, it doesn’t do the robot thing – it doesn’t even do the Vulcan thing. It does the Human thing. And that means that it socks Mr. Serck in the face so hard that he gets knocked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch! That's definitely gonna leave a mark.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos if you think this is worth continuing!


End file.
